Book 11 > Highlander Vows
Prologue
Isle of Skye, Scotland The Year of Our Lord 1386
“Look at them all,” Lillith MacLeod grumbled, more to herself than to her twin beside her. “Every da dancing with his daughter except ours.”
“Aye,” Lenora replied in a longing whisper. “I wish we were out there dancing.”
Lillith did too, and the desire made her chest ache something fierce. She stared into the thick throng of her clansmen and women, longing to be among them, dancing, laughing, and celebrating the annual Winter Solstice. Instead, she and Lenora stood at the edge of the great hall dance floor. She curled her hands into fists at her sides as a lump settled in her chest.
“I’m going to talk to da,” she huffed, taking a step toward the dais where their da sat in conversation with one of the visiting lairds.
Lenora grabbed Lillith from behind. “Do nae do it, Lillith! Da’s wearing the vexed frown, and ye ken how grumpy he is when his face looks like that.”
“His face always looks like that, and he’s always grumpy,” Lillith grumbled as she turned to meet Lenora’s blue gaze, which everyone said looked exactly like Lillith’s.
“Ye’re going to get us both in trouble!” Lenora whined.
That was likely true. It seemed that when one of them got a scolding, the other did too, even if they’d done nothing wrong, but Lillith didn’t care at that moment. “I want to dance!” she replied instead, stomping her foot, as tears of frustration filled her eyes.
Immediately, Lenora’s eyes filled with tears as well. “Me, too,” she whispered, “and ye’re right. Da has been frowning likely since the day mama died.” Lenora cocked her head, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Do ye wish me to come with ye?” she asked, her voice trembling with fear.
Warmth filled Lillith’s chest that her sister would ask, but she shook her head. “Mayhap if ye’re nae in sight, ye’ll nae be punished if that’s what comes about.”
Lenora bit her lip. “Ye’re certain?”
“Aye. There’s nae any sense in us both getting a scolding if it can be helped.” She pulled away from her sister’s grasp and drew a deep breath for courage, as Uncle Brus always said to do.
“I’ll be waiting right here,” Lenora called out from behind Lillith as she’d already turned away to step into the swirling mass of dancers. She ducked beneath extended arms and slipped between swaying hips, weaving a path toward her da. As she got closer, she could see that his lips were pressed in a hard line that made her tummy start to ache and doubt creep in. Should she turn back?
Just then, a burst of laughter washed over her, and she looked to the right to see Mary Frances being twirled in the air by her da. Their gazes met, and Mary Frances stuck her tongue out at Lillith. No, she’d not turn back. She wanted to show Mary Frances that Lillith’s da loved her just the same as—no, more—than Mary Frances’s da loved her. It was bad enough that Mary Frances was constantly blabbering about her mama and how she spun a bedtime story every night. Lillith’s mama was dead, but her da wasn’t, and she wanted to blabber to Mary Frances about how much her da, the very important Laird MacLeod, loved her and Lenora the most of any daughter ever.
She could not remember her mama, but she had a faint memory of her da being happy and loving once, and Uncle Brus and Aunt Elena had confirmed when she’d asked them that da had most certainly been happy. And they ought to know since they were his siblings. They also said he was still loving—it was just currently hard for him to show it.
In front of Lillith, a pair of dancers twirled apart, and she seized her chance to dart out of the crowd, surprised when she found herself before the dais. She’d not realized she was quite that close. She suddenly got all hot and sticky, and her tummy felt queasy. She stared up at the dais that raised her da and the other laird above the crowd. Her da was as big as a giant! How had she never noticed that?
She forced herself to square her shoulders and lift her chin. “Da,” she called, hearing the tremble in her voice. “Will ye dance with me?”
He dragged his gaze from the laird he’d been talking to and settled it on her. She didn’t know how it was possible, but his frown got fiercer, and the man beside him looked like his face might crack. Lillith’s legs wanted to stop holding her upright, but she locked her knees in place.
“Nae now, Lillith. I’m busy.”
Lillith felt her brows dip together, and her heart speed up. “Ye’re always busy.”
“That,” her da said, his eyes now narrowing upon her, “is because I’m laird. Now off with ye.”
“I want to dance!” she burst out.
“MacLeod,” the man beside her da bit out, “if ye kinnae control yer own wee lass, how can ye expect me to believe ye can command yer warriors to stop the Mathesons from invading yer lands and then coming for my stronghold?”
“I can control my daughter,” her da growled, his gaze looking more like a thunder cloud by the second. “Lillith, get back to yer sister and stop pestering me for silly things like dancing.”
She was going to cry. Her lip was doing that trembling thing, and her eyes were burning, and her throat was suddenly tight.
She jerked her head in a nod and turned away as the first tear fell. Stop pestering him. She was a nuisance to her da. So was Lenora. He didn’t have time for them. Or was it that he didn’t want to make the time for them? She didn’t know, but she knew she was sad. Really, really sad. She blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears, but they flowed hot over her cheeks and blurred her vision.
She hurried through the dancers to get back to Lenora, nearly colliding with several people. Suddenly, a large, warm hand caught her by the arm from behind.
“Where are ye off to in such a hurry, lass?”
Lillith turned toward her Uncle Brus’s voice. He was already crouching in front of her, so that his face became immediately level with hers. “Why are yer cheeks red?” Lillith blurted, wishing she hadn’t been caught crying.
“Too much celebration,” he replied, tipping up the wine goblet clutched in his hand. “Now, why are ye crying?” he asked, pushing her hair back from her face with calloused fingers to tuck it behind her ear.
Lillith’s bottom lip trembled again, this time out of gratitude. At least her uncle loved her. She bit down on her lip to try to stop the trembling, but it was no use. Fresh tears welled up and spilled over. “Da does nae love me and Lenora,” she blurted out, her voice breaking.
Without a word, he pulled her into his arms, enfolding her in an embrace that smelled of wine, leather, and the faintest trace of the forge where he sometimes helped the blacksmith.
“Hush now,” he murmured against the top of her head. “’Tis nae ye. ’Tis him. He’s forgotten how to love ever since yer mama broke his heart.”
Lillith hiccupped, confusion momentarily cutting through her distress. “By dying?” she asked.
Uncle Brus opened his mouth and looked like he was going to say something, then he fell silent for a moment, before finally saying, “Aye, lass. By dying.”
Lillith wrinkled her nose, trying to make sense of it all. “Mama died, and da forgot how to smile?”
“Something like that,” he replied, chucking her under the chin as a small smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Do nae grow up to be like him, wee Lillith. Ye keep yer happiness and smiles, ye hear? Do nae let sorrow turn ye to stone.”
“Brus MacLeod!” came her Aunt Elena’s sharp voice above them. Uncle Brus rolled his eyes at Lillith, but when he looked up at her aunt, he had a somber expression on his face.
“Hello, sister.”
Aunt Elena knelt beside Lillith. Her silk skirts pooled around her on the rush-strewn floor. “Do nae pay him any mind,” she said, her tone gentle. “He’s in his cups.” She shot Uncle Brus a dark look to which he shrugged. “And he’s vexed with yer da.”
Lillith got the feeling she was supposed to nod, so she did. Aunt Elena patted Lillith on the head, before her aunt poked Uncle Brus in the chest. “Ye should be ashamed, filling Lillith’s head with such talk. Can ye nae see she’s upset enough?”
Brus scoffed, rising to his full height with only a slight wobble. “I may be in my cups and vexed, but my words were true,” he replied, his tone defiant despite the slurring of his words. “Love broke our brother.”
Aunt Elena shook her fist at Uncle Brus. “I’m going to break yer thick skull if ye do nae get out of my sight.”
“Fine, fine!” Uncle Brus said, throwing up his empty hand. “I’m going.” With that, he straightened his plaid, gave Aunt Elena a mocking bow, and strode away.
“Do nae pay yer uncle any heed, child,” Aunt Elena said.
Lillith nibbled her lip, considering. She knew her aunt wanted her to feel better, but her uncle’s words were actually making her feel better. She finally understood. Her da was broken by love. If she could fix him, then he’d dance, smile, and laugh, and not think her and Lenora pesky burdens. “I’ll nae, Auntie Elena,” Lillith lied, sensing it would be easier this way. “I’m going to go find Lenora.”
“All right, Lillith. Are ye certain ye’re alright?”
“Aye, Auntie,” Lillith fibbed again. She felt bad about it, truly. She loved her aunt, but some adults did not seem to understand certain things, like how love could break you and that sometimes monsters were under beds.
Her aunt kissed her on the cheek, then Lillith made her way toward Lenora as Uncle Brus’s words filled her head. Love had broken her da. If love could hurt someone as strong and big as her da, maybe she should guard against it? She had no notion at all how one did that, but she’d figure it out. Before she even came to a complete stop in front of her sister, she blurted, “I ken what’s wrong with Da now.”
Lenora’s eyes went wide. “He told ye?”
“Do nae be daft! Uncle Brus told me.”
“Oh! What did he say?”
Lillith leaned in and cupped her hand to Lenora’s ear. This was a secret, and everyone knew secrets should be whispered. Of course, Uncle Brus had not whispered it, but he was in his cups. “Uncle Brus says love broke da. Love for mama,” she added in case Lenora was confused. “When mama died, da’s heart shattered, and he’s nae been able to piece it back together.”
“How do we fix him?”
Lillith’s lips curved into a smile. “We need to go to the Wishing Tree by the fae pool tonight.”
“The fae pool?” Lenora gasped, pulling back. “Whatever for? Are ye daft? ’Tis freezing outside, and dark, and there are wolves in the woods. Nae to mention the seer’s cave is nearby, and ye ken what they say about her—”
“I ken exactly what they say about Eolande,” Lillith interrupted. “She’s full of magic. And she’ll cast a spell on ye if ye cross her. We’ll nae cross her. We likely will nae even see her. Everyone says wishes made at the Wishing Tree on certain special nights come true without fail.”
“But—”
“Do ye want to fix da or nae?” Lillith demanded.
Lenora nodded.
“Good. Tomorrow is the first day of the new year, and I overheard Cook just today tell one of the kitchen maids that wishes made at the tree on the eve of a new year are the most powerful of all.” Excitement bubbled in her chest.
“The most powerful?” Lenora asked, her voice tentative.
“Aye!” Lillith replied. Lenora was going to relent. She knew her sister, and she had that look that said she was going to budge.
“Fine,” Lenora conceded. “But if we die in the snow or get eaten by wolves or cursed by the seer, I’ll nae ever forgive ye.”
~ ~ ~
“Do ye truly believe a wish can fix da?” Lenora asked not long later as they trudged through the snow, huddled close together for warmth.
Lillith paused, shivering and looking up at the sky that glimmered like one of their mama’s gems that Lillith liked to put on when no one was around. “Aye,” she said, tugging her cloak tighter around her face and wiggling her cold toes. “And we’re almost to the Wishing Tree!”
Lenora nodded, and they continued walking in silence until the thick canopy of trees opened to reveal a small clearing. At its center stood the Wishing Tree—ancient, gnarled, its bare branches reaching toward the star-strewn sky almost as if the tree was trying to grasp a star. Beside the tree lay the fae pool, a perfect circle of still, dark water that the moon and stars seemed to shine brighter upon. And beyond the pool, in the distance, Lenora could see the caves where Eolande and her mama were said to live.
They approached the tree slowly, and when they got near enough to touch it, Lillith reached out and placed her hand against the rough bark. It was warm beneath her bare hands, which seemed odd, given the cold night. Still, she was here to make a wish, and she would. “Close yer eyes,” she commanded Lenora.
“Why?”
“Because I heard ye need to close yer eyes to make a wish.” Lenora did as bidden, and after Lillith felt certain her sister would keep her eyes closed, she shut her own so tight it hurt. “I wish—”
“We wish,” Lenora interrupted.
Lillith nodded but kept her eyes closed. “We wish for our da to be fixed. For his heart to be made whole again, so that he can love us as he did before our mama died.” She pressed her hand hard against the tree, hoping that would help make the wish come true.
Then, without opening her eyes, she added a second quiet wish, meant only for herself, but she had to say it aloud since she didn’t know all the wishing rules. “And I wish to nae ever have my heart broken like our da did.” Beside her, Lenora gasped but did not speak. “I wish to nae ever be broken by love,” Lillith added, to ensure her wish was understood.
“I heard yer wishes, child,” came a lyrical voice from the silence.
Lillith’s eyes flew open, and her lips parted in surprise. Beside her, Lenora cried out. Before them, a woman seemed to float just above the ground. She had skin as pale as cream, eyes a strange violet and silver, and long, dark hair that floated around her shoulders.
“Eolande?” Lillith squeaked.
The woman nodded, tilting her head to one side as she studied Lillith. Her gaze shifted to the Wishing Tree, then back to Lillith, and one side of her mouth lifted into a strange smile.
“Wishes have power,” Eolande said. “Especially wishes made on such a night as this.”
“Will our wishes come true?” Lillith asked, forcing her tongue, which felt frozen in fear, to work.
Eolande gazed at Lillith for such a long time, and in such a probing way, that Lillith was certain the seer was going to curse her. “Tonight,” Eolande said, finally speaking, “I offer ye this gift—an answer to yer second wish.”
Lillith let out her held breath in a rush of relief that she wasn’t being cursed as the seer leaned down, bringing her face level with Lillith’s. “If ye wish to nae ever be broken by love, then do nae ever give yer heart to a man. Keep it locked away, little lass,” the seer said, snapped her fingers, and was suddenly gone.
Lillith and Lenora stood in silence for a long moment, clutching each other, as Lillith’s thoughts tumbled. Was their da going to be fixed or not? And how did one keep their heart locked away?
Suddenly, Lenora tugged on Lillith’s hand. “We need to go. If we’re missed, da will be furious.”
Lillith grinned. “Nae if he’s fixed!”
Lenora returned Lillith’s grin, and with silent understanding, they took off full charge down the trail that would lead them home.
